


The Strength to Go On

by Jya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Injury, M/M, Unexpected Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6396721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jya/pseuds/Jya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One step forward, three steps back.</p>
<p>After pushing himself way too hard, Kageyama is forced to take a month off from Volleyball and training. Faced with a roller coaster of emotions, he has two options: keep his head up and push forward, or let himself fall and hit rock bottom. Fortunately, friendship presents itself in the most unexpected ways. </p>
<p>Rating may change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Strength to Go On

“Kageyama! Do you want to go for ramen?” Hinata asked, his words barely audible behind the towel pressed to his face.

“I can’t. I have an appointment with my trainer.” Kageyama said, choosing to wait until _after_ he’d spoken to wipe the sweat from his own face.

“Oh! The new one? What was his name? Ayoma or something?”

“Aogiri-san,” Kageyama corrected him.

“You never even told me he’d agreed to work with you?” Hinata complained, tossing his towel in his bag and collapsing into a chair, water bottle in hand.

“He hasn’t officially accepted yet. I did a bunch of testing last week and he has the results, so I guess this where he agrees or doesn’t agree now.”

“Aren’t you paying him? Doesn’t he have to accept if you agree to pay?”

“Technically my sponsors pay him, but he’s a huge name in the volleyball world, so he’s highly sought after. He doesn’t have to take on every nobody who comes along. That’s why he does all this testing, to make sure you’re actually good I guess.”

“You don’t need to take tests to prove you’re good though, all he has to do is watch you play.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I just did what he said.”

“So complicated. I gotta go pee and then make a call. Don’t leave till I get back, k?”

“Whatever,” Kageyama said noncommittally. But he watched over his shoulder, much more carefully than he let on.

As soon as Hinata was gone, he quickly changed his shirt and pulled his long sleeved zip up on. He reached into his bag and retrieved a nearly empty role of sports tape. One more quick glance over his shoulder, and he began quickly but expertly wrapping the tape around his right wrist. It was more swollen than usual today, and also more painful.

He had been hiding the plaguing injury from everyone for over a month now. It had started out as a dull ache when he served, but he was feeling it more and more now, especially if his tosses weren’t perfect. It had grown into a sharp pain that shot down his forearm, and felt like a sore joint at all other times.

He knew too well that if the coach or anyone else found out he’d likely be benched. And he wasn’t about to risk that at such an important time in his young career. He’d been selected for the under 19 nationals, and now that Oikawa had moved on, he stood a decent chance at being starting setter. They also had the fall tournament in three weeks, and if they managed to win it, they would get automatic entry to nationals without having to worry about the winter tournament.

It was his their last year in high school, his last chance before college.

As he finished the tape job, he dropped the roll back into the hidden pocket of his bag, making a mental note to restock when he got home, and pulled his sleeve down over his hand and slipped his thumb through the thumbhole of the right sleeve. He had perfected his taping method so his sleeve would hide any evidence of the injury.

“Kageyama!”

Perfect timing.

“What?” He asked Hinata as the fiery youth returned to the room.

“What are you doing after your appointment?”

“Probably hitting the gym if I have time,” he replied.

“Oh, ok then. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning at practice. Let me know how the appointment goes though!”

“Ok. Later,” he said, picking up his bag and heading for the door.

He was nervous, more nervous than he cared to admit.  

_So what if he doesn’t want you, that’s his problem not yours._ He’d been telling himself this all week. There was something odd about the way that Aogiri-san had reacted to his performance testing that had set his nerves on edge.

The testing had lasted almost an entire day. He had done everything from simple volleyball techniques to running on a treadmill with a big annoying oxygen monitor to blood tests. He wasn’t entirely sure what Aogiri-san was looking for, and somehow he didn’t have the nerve to ask. He felt he probably should know what he’d been watching, so it made him feel stupid asking.

Kageyama stepped off the bus and walked towards the huge university building ahead of him. It was equally as nerve wracking the last time he’d been here, despite the fact that this time he knew exactly where he was going. This time he was nervous for a different reason.

He walked through the doors, feeling like he mostly blended in with the students all around him, most of them clad in athletic wear like his. Mentally he was intimidated by them. He knew he looked like them, but somehow he felt that just by looking at him they could tell he was younger and completely out of place.

He ignored the sensation of isolation, and stared straight forward, not daring to stare once again in amazement at the vast work out center or large swimming pools as he had the first time he’d been there.

He walked up two flights of stairs and approached Aogiri-san’s lab, intending to knock but finding the door wide open. There was another man inside talking to him, but Aogiri-san quickly spotted him.

His pulse skyrocketed and he felt a light sweat break out over his forehead that had nothing to do with the intense practice he had just participated in. He rarely got nervous like this; he was always so good at keeping himself under control. What was happening to him?

“Ah, Kageyama-kun,” he said pleasantly, but without a smile. “Can we finish this later?” He asked his unfamiliar companion. The second man answered in the affirmative, nodded at Kageyama, and took his leave. “Please, come in,” Aogiri-san said, gesturing toward a chair and closing the door behind him.

Aogiri-san was not in any way old. Had Kageyama not known he’s been in the game with players for nearly ten years, he would suspect that this man was not a day older than 25. His educated guess however would put him in his early forties. He was tall, about Kageyama’s height, with short dark hair and glasses. On both occasions that Kageyama had met him, he’d been wearing a lab coat with track pants and running shoes underneath. Somehow despite his casual and youthful appearance, he had an air about him that was extremely intimidating and demanded respect.

Kageyama took his seat, feeling his pulse racing through his ears and hoping the flush across his face wasn’t letting on too heavily to his anxiety.

“Alright, Kageyama-kun, I’ve been studying all of your test results, and I would like to work with you,” Kageyama’s heart leapt at this, “but first I’d like to go over what some of this information means, and I do have a couple of conditions that you need to agree to before we proceed.”

“Alright,” he said nervously.

“You may not completely understand what I’m talking about right away, but bear with me. It will make sense.” Aogiri-san said, pulling a stack of papers toward himself.

“So the first thing I want you to look at is your blood pressure. You know that most people sit around 120/80. Your exercising blood pressure is a bit higher. This isn’t unhealthy, but it’s above average. Your resting blood pressure however, is low at 100/60. Again, not unhealthy, but low.”

Kageyama was getting more nervous. Of course his Blood Pressure was high, he’d been extremely nervous through all the testing. He decided to keep himself quiet and listen.

“Next is your resting metabolic rate, so energy expenditure for basic bodily functions. Average RER numbers are about 0.80, and yours is a bit higher at 0.90.”

“Resting heart rate I only took twice, and it was quite low the first time, which is normal for someone at your fitness level, but the second time it was quite high. I could easily write this off as stress, but let us keep going.”

“I understand your physical education class does fitness testing, so I managed to obtain those prior to our meeting last week. I don’t normally look at blood samples quite so early with an athlete, but after seeing your tests I thought it might be important.”

Now his heart was really racing. Where the heck was he going with this?

“What I was looking for in that blood test were markers. Increased urea concentration and different hormone levels. High levels of cortisol and decreased levels of testosterone, so an altered balance. This pretty well confirmed my suspicion.”

“And what was that?” Kageyama hesitantly asked after Aogiri-san went quiet for a moment. He sounded like he’d swallowed a frog.

“Have you ever heard of Overtraining Syndrome?” He asked.

“Not really,” Kageyama replied. He’d obviously heard the term overtraining, but not as a syndrome.

“Ok,” Aogiri-san said, pushing the stack of papers aside and pulling a blank piece and a pen out of his drawer. “You will learn all of this in detail if you ever decided to study exercise physiology, but the basic premise is easy to grasp. So we start with what we call undertraining, and this is something most athletes aim for during their off season, whether it is to rest or recover from injuries, but you drop a good portion of your training load.” He wrote the word undertraining.

“Then you have what most describe as acute overload, and as an athlete you know this is regular training. You have to push yourself harder to grow stronger, correct?” He wrote acute overload on the page below undertraining.

“Right.”

“The next one is still debated in our field, though most researchers are in agreement that overreaching,” he wrote the word, “is characterized by a temporary decrement in performance, then closely followed by a greater increase. This is what we consider optimal heavy training. It looks something like this,” he said, drawing a graph, starting with an increasing line from the bottom, dropping down, then increasing even more, then dropping slightly, so that an overall increase in the height of the line was clear.

“The last one is what we call overtraining,” he scribbled the word at the bottom of his list, “and this is described as a maladaptation in training, and we see decreases in performance despite increased load. It can sometimes result in injuries, but doesn’t always. It looks like this.” This time his line started at the top of the page, dropped down, increased slightly but not as much as it dropped, then continued dropping. “It is basically the opposite of overreaching, and it is not well understood.”

Kageyama felt the adrenaline coursing through his body.

“We don’t really understand _why_ you get such a decrease in performance, but research has showed that it happens, and it happens a lot. The line between overreaching and overtraining is so narrow, that even with professional training, it still happens to a huge number of athletes. I’ve seen it in your fitness tests, and the hormonal blood markers are also present. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” he said hesitantly. He was afraid to ask how to fix it. This guy was a trainer, right? He could show him how to train properly. But the idea of slowing down at all scared him. He had been putting in so much work so he had assumed he was getting stronger.

“Unfortunately, Overtraining syndrome is not an easy fix.”

_Shit._

“Now I’m asking you to please not storm out of my office and at least hear me out before you agree or disagree. “

_Oh fuck._

“The good news is that we know your performance levels can be increased, and they can be increased greatly, so your potential here is huge. However, this is where my condition comes in. In order to properly recover, you need to take a minimum of four weeks off from all training, so that’s strength, endurance, or any kind of volleyball.”

Kageyama felt like he’d just been slapped. He was fairly certain that his heart had dropped into his stomach, and his lungs had shriveled up into nothingness. He felt sick, and he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to argue, but instead he started coughing and gasping for air.

“Here,” Aogiri-san said, placing a glass of water in front of him. “Take a minute.”

It only took a couple of sips of water and about 25 seconds with his head between his legs before he could breathe again, but his head was still racing, and he still felt sick to his stomach.

Without even thinking about it, he stood up. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he said, his voice extremely shaky, but his will was strong, and he quickly turned around and made for the door.

Aogiri-san said nothing. He watched as Kageyama left, listening as the heavy door at the end of the hall slammed.

He then picked up his phone and typed a quick message.

_As discussed…_

He tapped the send button.

* * *

 

It wasn’t until he got down to the main floor and outside of the building that Kageyama felt like he could actually breathe properly again. As soon as Aogiri-san started talking about his test results, the air in the office had become thick and he had started sweating. Now, drenched in sweat that had nothing to do with volleyball, the cool evening air was greatly welcomed.

But he couldn’t ignore what Aogiri-san had said. He had heard of overtraining before, but he’d always heard it described as nothing more than a myth. But here was one of the top Volleyball trainers in Japan telling him he was nowhere near peak performance. And even if he chose never to step foot back in Aogiri-san’s office, the truth had been put on display for him, and it all fit.

He’d been working so hard in so many different ways for so many months, and the results weren’t there. He knew he should have been getting stronger and his endurance should have ben getting better, but something just wasn’t right. He’d always thought he was just stressed or tired from balancing school with sport, and if he had a good night’s sleep and a solid meal that he’d be able to turn it around.

But an entire month? He couldn’t even fathom taking that much time off. The idea of it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Feeling a little unsteady, he headed around the side of the building and found a picnic table. He sat down and buried his head in his arms, all sense of self consciousness lost.

This couldn’t be happening.

A month of would mean he would lose not only his fitness, but his chance to play in the fall tournament, and he would likely lose his place on the under 19 national team if he wasn’t training. Aside from that, what would he do with himself for a whole month?

The thought stung, and stung badly. A part of him wanted to pinch himself and hopefully wake up from this horrid nightmare, but he didn’t. He wanted to cling to the idea that perhaps he was dreaming.

“Yo,” someone said from behind him.

He ignored it. This was a university campus, and not only did nobody here know him, there must have been so many ‘yo’s’ thrown around that it was almost certainly directed at someone else.

“Tobio-chan.”

His head shot up and quickly made eye contact with a smiling Oikawa.

“What?” Kageyama said, blankly. He didn’t understand, and his head hurt. “What are you doing here? I thought you moved to America?”

“I did, but I came back. I go to school here now. I’m working on a directed studied project at the moment with – ”

“Aogiri-san?”

Oikawa cracked a smile. If possible, he looked taller and thinner than he had before and he was definitely more tanned. Maybe it was the brown-framed glasses, but somehow he just looked different, older perhaps.

“Did he send you after me?”

“He told me he had a meeting with you today, and he didn’t think you were going to take his news very well. He wouldn’t tell me what it was about, but he asked me if I could be around as a potential morale booster if necessary.” He leaned on the edge of the picnic table.

“I see…” Kageyama said slowly, letting his head slide back into his outspread arms.

“You don’t have to share what he said to you, but he’s a fantastic trainer, and somehow he knows how to raise you to your full potential.”

“Wait… he wasn’t your trainer, was he?”

“Yeah he was, and has been for three years.”

“I had no idea.” Kageyama said, slightly flabbergasted. “So wait, why did you come back from America?” He asked, deliberately directing the conversation away from himself.

“I blew my knee. I had to have surgery, and I could get the treatment faster over here. Six month recovery though.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah I’m three months in. Figured I might as well start school. What’s your story?” Oikawa asked. “He’s obviously asked you to stop playing for some reason. It’s the only reason you’d be such a wreck.”

“Apparently I’m overtraining or something,” Kageyama said, clasping his hands together between his knees and dropping his head.

“Ah, I see.” Oikawa said. “And your performance is declining, am I right?”

“I guess so.”

“How long does he want you to take off?”

“A month.” He felt kind of guilty being so torn up over a month when Oikawa was faced with six, but he couldn’t help it. When you loved something as much as he loved volleyball, any time away from it hurt.

“I understand. But just think about it… you can be so much better than you are right now. And Aogiri-san _will_ bring that out in you.”

Kageyama was silent. He didn’t want to hear it. He was intelligent enough to see it from both sides, but right now it was still too much of a shock, and his head just needed to settle.

“You know, there’s something about you I always envied…” Oikawa began, taking a seat across the table from him and resting his chin in his hands.

“You? Envied me?”

“Even when we were in middle school, and then especially in high school when I played against you. Everyone who talked about you always talked about the potential you had. Yeah sure, at the time I was better, but I still really had to try to beat you. And sure, I could, but everyone knew, myself included, that if you were ever raised to your full potential, that you would be the better player. You can’t teach talent like yours, Tobio.”

Kageyama pulled his awestruck eyes away from Oikawa and focused on his hands, staring like lasers straight forward.

“You know what you need to do…” Oikawa said. His tone had assumed one that Kageyama had only ever heard directed at his teammates during a serious game, and even then it was rare. It was severe, rather than his usual playful tone. “You’ll like training with Aogiri-san. He only works with athletes who have an outstanding ability to push themselves. It’s perfect for you.”

Kageyama continued to stare at his hands, feeling Oikawa’s gaze on him.

“If you decide to go back up there, we’ll probably be doing at least some work together.”

Two years ago and that might have been the deal breaker for Kageyama. But somehow, now that he wasn’t competing directly with him, Oikawa felt more like an ally than a foe. And even now, just the way he was talking to him on equal terms rather than through his old condescending persona, it made him feel different. Something about the last two years had changed Oikawa. And perhaps Kageyama had changed too. Their goals were no longer so provincial. They were both working towards bigger and better things now.

“I guess I’ll go back tomorrow…” Kageyama said, rising to his feet.

“Why not now?” Oikawa asked.

Kageyama looked up. The sun was setting. “Won’t he be gone?”

“Nah, I think he’s waiting for you. He’s normally in his office till quite late at night on weekdays.”

“I don’t know if now is the best time,” he commented. He felt like a total fool for storming out after Aogiri-san had specifically asked him not to.

“Just do it. I’m sure he knew exactly how you were going to respond. Why else would he have had me on call like this?” Oikawa smirked at this. “Come on, I’ll go up there with you.”

A part of him wanted to say no. He didn’t like the idea that Oikawa got to bask in victory while Kageyama returned head down and tail between his legs. But he decided he didn’t care. There were bigger issues to consider here, like the fact that for the next month he wasn’t going to be able to do the one thing that kept him happy.  

“Alright, let’s go.”

Kageyama abandoned Oikawa about half way down the hall, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he’d be eavesdropping on their conversation. He approached the office, to which the door was open and Aogiri-san was still occupying alone.

He knocked.

“Ah, Kageyama-kun, welcome back.”

Kageyama entered the office and offered a low bow. “Please excuse me for running out like that. I’m sorry.”

He remained in a bow position until Aogiri-san spoke. “Not to worry, Kageyama-kun. I knew you wouldn’t take the news easily. But you’ve returned, does this mean you’ll accept my condition? I would like to sign on to work with you.”

Kageyama stood up.

“Yes, and please excuse me if I temporarily go insane over the next month. I will do my best.”

“I know you will. Please, take a seat.”

“I had a second point to get to. You have an injury to your right arm, do you not?” Aogiri-san asked.

Kageyama was caught off guard by this. He hadn’t told anyone else, and he was certain no one aside from perhaps his mother had seen the bandages. How did Aogiri-san know? His silence was more than enough to relinquish the need to vocalize the question.

“I’ve watched you play before, and I’ve noticed a bit of a difference in your technique in the last little while. I’m surprised your coach let you play like that.”

“He doesn’t know,” Kageyama said in automatic defense of Ukai-san.

“Ah, does anyone know?”

“No.”

“Can I have a look?” Aogiri-san asked.

Kageyama hesitated, but realized he couldn’t say no. How much worse could it get? He was already sitting for a month.

He pulled his thumb out of the hole and rolled up his sleeve, reaching across the desk.

“That bad, hey?” Aogiri-san asked, eyeing the tape on his wrist. “Nice tape job,” he added before beginning to strip off the tape carefully.

“Can you show me what hurts? And where?” He asked.

Kageyama showed him, pointing to the point near the base of his thumb where most of the pain radiated from.

Aogiri-san did a thorough evaluation, bending it every which way, careful not to cause too much pain, but enough to get an idea of what was wrong.

“So I think I know what the issue is, though it isn’t something we see a ton in volleyball players. I’m going to order an MRI just to make sure there are no major tears, but I doubt we’ll find anything. I think this is something we can fix without too much interruption, but this month off will be very beneficial if we tackle it right. I’m going to immobilize you for the next two weeks then we’ll reevaluate from there. I won’t put you in a cast, but I don’t want you taking the brace off since we’re aiming for such a short period of time. If all goes well, your wrist should be healed for the most part by the end of the four weeks. Sound good?”

He couldn’t exactly say it sounded good, but he hoped that once he got over the initial shock of everything, it would sound like a positive. But right now, he couldn’t find it in himself to be optimistic.

“Ok,” he said, trying to force his tone away from sounding as devastated as he was.

“I know this is going to be tough. More often than not athletes fall into at least a slight state of depression when trying to overcome overtraining syndrome. But so you know, working with me gives you access to my entire team, and we have a great sports psychologist if you feel even the slightest need to chat with her. I also want to hook you up with a dietician and you’ll be working with me for the most part with your rehab, but I’m going to send you to see Yuto for the time being. He’ll probably want to administer IMS before he sets you up with a brace.

About an hour and several needles and electrodes in the arm later, Kageyama was ready to get as far away from this place as possible. IMS, or intramuscular stimulation (“It’s like acupuncture on steroids”, Yuto the young physiotherapist had told him) involved sticking about ten needles into his arm and pressing on them every so often before removing them after a few minutes. It made his wrist ache and feel tight, but Yuto had assured him it would feel better by tomorrow or the next day. He’d been given a sturdy brace that held his wrist and thumb straight and completely immobile, and was not easily disguisable. It didn’t matter anyway, either way he wouldn’t be playing for at least four weeks. Hiding the injury didn’t matter anymore.

“Go home, eat a healthy dinner, relax, watch a movie or something and get a good sleep. Four weeks will pass before you know it,” Aogiri-san said. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the MRI.”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling like it was the right thing to say. Truthfully, he wished he’d never entered this building today.

Still slightly stunned, Kageyama exited the building and headed for the bus stop. Just as he scanned his pass and took his seat, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Not once, not twice, but three times. Annoyed, he pulled it out.

_Hinata: Hey_

_Hinata: Are you still going to the gym?_

_Hinata: Can I join you?_

Irritated by the fact that Hinata couldn’t just put it all in one message, he typed a quick reply, which proved rather difficult without the use of his right thumb.

_Kageyama: No. I’m heading home._

Kageyama settled into his seat with his phone. The bus was stuck in traffic, crawling along at a snails pace extending the normal 10 minute ride into at least double that. He just wanted to get home. He needed some sense of familiarity to combat this wave of uncertainty.

_Hinata: What? You never miss a work out._

_Hinata: How was the meeting?_

He figured he should probably just tell him. He wasn’t going to take it well no matter how he said it.

_Kageyama: Meeting was ok. I can’t play for a month though._

_Hinata: What? Why?_

_Hinata: Did something happen?_

_Hinata: Are you hurt?_

And there he went. As Kageyama expected, Hinata was freaking out.

_Kageyama: No_

_Kageyama: Well kind of._

_Kageyama: Long story_

He knew he should have just done it in person. News over text message was never a good thing. But a big part of him didn’t want to see Hinata’s response in person. He knew the disappointment on his face would about kill whatever sense of life he had left in him after the evening of bad news.

He pocketed his phone, not wanting to continue on the subject.

Unfortunately, he realized by the time he got home half an hour later that this conversation as far from over. Hinata was parked on his doorstep with a big bag of what looked like takeout waiting for him.

Kageyama approached slowly, burying his hands in his pockets. Hinata appeared to be asleep. Strange, he thought, he couldn’t have been there for more than a few minutes.

“Hey,” he said, waking Hinata up. He didn’t have it in him to force his hard and bitter exterior forward. It had been a long day.

“Kageyama! How long have I been asleep?”

“I was going to ask you that. What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t want to go for Ramen, so I brought Ramen to you,” Hinata said, holding up the bag before being caught by a yawn. “Also you were ignoring my texts. What do you mean you can’t play for a month?!”

“Come inside,” Kageyama said, pushing past him and unlocking his front door with his left hand.

His parents were away in China on a two month long business trip. Now that he was older, they were away more than they were home. Kageyama didn’t mind though. He liked having the time and space to himself.

“Spill it!” Hinata said impatiently.

Kageyama pulled off his zip up and allowed Hinata to see his right arm in its rigid brace.

“What the hell happened?!” He demanded.

“It’s been bugging me for a while now, I just never said anything. That isn’t all though.”

“Don’t tell me your leg is broken too,” Hinata said in an attempted joke, but he sounded more nervous than humorous.

“Ever heard of overtraining?” Kageyama asked, dropping his keys on the counter and flicking on the lights.

“Yeah, I thought it was a load of garbage though.”

“Nope, not a load. My trainer has all my fitness tests from previous months and I’m declining. The only fix is taking some time off.” He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible.

“Seriously? And you believe him? I mean… shouldn’t you get a second opinion or something first? A whole month…”

“No, I know he’s right. I can see it myself.” He chose not to elaborate, but he’d noticed it most in his weightlifting. For a while he’d been making steady progress, but recently he couldn’t lift anymore than he had been previously. He thought he was just topping out, but this made more sense.

“And you’re ok with this?”

“What? Not being able to do shit for a month? Of course I’m not!” He nearly shouted, immediately regretting his tone.

_Keep it together, idiot._

“Sorry…” Kageyama said, red faced. He turned away.

Hinata seemed to get it, as he stopped pressing the subject.

“Are you hungry?” Hinata finally asked, after an awkward silence.

“Sure,” Kageyama said, though he had no appetite at all. He supposed that ramen was better than nothing, since Aogiri-san had specifically told him to eat a good dinner.

Hinata emptied the contents of his bag on the counter, and they pulled up two stools. “I got Miso and Shoyu. Which one do you want?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Kageyama said. “Guess I’ll take the Miso.” He knew that Hinata always ordered Shoyu ramen. Always. For some reason, he’d never grown out of the beginner level flavor, or perhaps because of the similarity between the flavor and his name.

“Are you going to be able to use chopsticks with that thing?” Hinata said, staring at the brace.

“I doubt it,” he said, grabbing a fork from the cutlery drawer. “What do you want to drink?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He poured two glasses of juice and took his seat at the counter, marveling at all of the random appetizers that Hinata had picked up yet feeling no sense of hunger.

“So are you still going to come to practices and hang out?” Hinata asked, taking his first bite of ramen.

“I don’t know. I have to go for an MRI tomorrow. Not sure what I’m doing after that.”

“Man, Tatsuko is going to be over the moon when he finds out about this.” Hinata said, not looking up. Tatsuko was the second string setter, though he’d never actually been able to play the position as long as Kageyama was around. Kageyama didn’t like him. He was cocky and arrogant and annoyingly obnoxious, and not the harmless kind of obnoxious that Hinata was.

“Don’t remind me,” Kageyama said, spooning a couple of shrimp onto a take out container lid.

“Why don’t you use a plate?” Hinata asked.

“Dishes,” He mumbled. “Are you going to be able to play with Tatsuko?” The last thing he wanted was for Hinata to get benched because Tatsuko wasn’t good enough to bring out Hinata’s real skill. Hinata had done alright with Sugawara in their first year, but the pair had become so accustomed to each other since then that it made Kageyama nervous.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll make it work. Have you told Ukai-san yet?”

“No…” he wasn’t looking forward to all of those conversations that he was facing.

“Want me to tell him? And the team?” Hinata asked, breaking a set of disposable chopsticks and digging into his ramen.

“Really?” Kageyama asked. It was a nice gesture from Hinata, probably a lot nicer than he realized.

“Yeah sure. A bunch of us are going tomorrow morning so they’ll ask why you aren’t there anyway. I’ll text Ukai-san and let him know.”

“Thanks,” he said, burying his face in his food. He didn’t want Hinata to see his expression.

While a part of him appreciated his friend being there for him, another, perhaps more prominent part wanted him to leave. He needed to be alone to process his feelings right now.

“Does it hurt?” Hinata asked, breaking him out of his thought.

“What?”

“Your arm, does it hurt?” Hinata asked.

“Oh. A bit,” he said. “The guy poked me with a bunch of needles so it’s kind of sore.”

“How long has it been bad?”

“I’ve kind of lots track. A while I guess.”

“And you never thought to say anything?” Hinata asked, sounding exasperated.

“Are you scolding me?”

“Oh,” Hinata said, resuming a normal tone. “Not really. Just seems kind of dumb to ignore it. You might have made it a lot worse.”

“Whatever,” Kageyama muttered. He was done with the topic.

“So after you left, the guys were practicing serves. Yamaguchi nailed Tuskishima in the back of the head with a serve twice within a span of about three minutes. The second time his glasses fell off and broke,” Hinata laughed.

Kageyama felt his lips curl into a smirk. Somehow, despite the fact that they’d been together over two years now, they had never really gotten along with Tsukishima.

“His face was so red,” Hinata laughed. “I can’t believe Tsukishima didn’t kill him. Do you think he’s calmed down a lot over the last year?”

“Probably,” Kageyama said, slurping his noodles off his fork.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought (:


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